


genesis

by zero_miles



Series: aurora [2]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Established Relationship, M/M, Secret Relationship, all of these tags will make sense when you read the fic i swear, and more POV changes than you can shake a stick at, background woosan but not enough to give them a relationship tag, just general chaos tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-07 09:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21214148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zero_miles/pseuds/zero_miles
Summary: Three things in life are certain: death, taxes, and the fact that Seonghwa's going to hate the new accountant just as much as he hated the old one....Right?





	1. inception

“Good morning,” Seonghwa says cheerfully, breezing past Hongjoong on the way to his office.

“What?” Hongjoong asks, sounding incredulous.

Seonghwa stops walking and turns to look at Hongjoong, who seems to have frozen in place. “Good morning?” he repeats, unsure. He can’t figure out why Hongjoong is suddenly looking at him like he’s sprouted a second head or something. “Is something wrong?”

“The new accountant starts today,” Hongjoong answers slowly. “You know, the position you threw a fit about existing in the first place and then chased off the last person to hold it?”

“I did no such thing,” Seonghwa sniffs, knowing even as he says it that it’s a complete fucking lie. Or a partial one, at least—while he hadn’t actively sabotaged his previous co-worker, he’d absolutely learned just how effective completely icing someone out can be. By the time the poor bastard had turned in his notice, nearly everyone had subconsciously started following Seonghwa’s lead and ignoring him. Hongjoong had been one of the few who went out of his way to try to be friendly still, but even that had been a strained relationship.

It’s no surprise then that Hongjoong scoffs, never afraid to call Seonghwa out on his bullshit. “Yeah, okay. We both know what you did, so obviously I’m a little surprised that you’re in a good mood knowing that the new hire starts orientation today.”

“I forgot,” Seonghwa tells him, scowling. It’s slightly too exaggerated to be genuine, but Hongjoong doesn’t seem to notice.

Thank god.

“Be nice to this one, please?” Hongjoong pleads. “You’re not superhuman, Seonghwa. You can’t handle all of the company’s financials all by yourself anymore.”

Seonghwa arches an eyebrow. “Haven’t I been doing just that for the last six weeks?”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, visibly clenching his jaw in annoyance. “Fine. You can’t handle all of the company’s financials anymore by yourself without literally working yourself to death,” he amends. “You make it hard for people to care about you sometimes, you know?”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa smiles.

“That wasn’t a compliment,” Hongjoong tells him.

“I’m still taking it as one. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work. I’m sure you do too,” Seonghwa says, glancing pointedly down at the watch on his wrist. (It’s new, an already cherished birthday gift, and he’s been checking the time more often than he needs to for the past week and a half just because he likes seeing it sitting on his wrist.)

“Be nice!” Hongjoong calls after him.

“Stop repeating yourself!” Seonghwa calls back, letting himself into his office. He drops his messenger bag unceremoniously on his desk, then glances over at the second desk in the room that’s waiting for its new occupant and smiles.

* * *

  
  


“Go,” San hisses.

Wooyoung grimaces. “Do I have to?” he asks, giving San his best pleading look.

San, unfortunately, is unmoved. “Go,” he repeats. “You’re it. You lost the bet.”

“You made the bet knowing I would be on the phone with a client all morning and unable to make any sales before lunch!” Wooyoung whines.

“Not my problem,” San says, and his smile is fucking demonic. “Go,” he repeats for a third time, dropping his voice an octave. Wooyoung knows there’s no way he’s getting out of it now, as much as he wants to.

“If he kills me, I’m going to haunt you,” Wooyoung tells San, then turns on his heel to walk confidently into the break room. Seonghwa is there, he knows, having watched the man enter two minutes before. 

Sure enough, Seonghwa is standing in front of the microwave, tapping his foot impatiently as he waits for whatever he’s reheating to finish. He’s muttering under his breath too, and Wooyoung nearly backs out of the break room to tell San that he can do his own dirty work, bet or no bet. But Wooyoung’s parents didn’t raise a quitter or a coward, which means he stands his ground and says, “Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa whirls around. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, and just...looks completely unapproachable right now. “What?”

Wooyoung gives Seonghwa his most innocent smile. “The new accountant started today, right? Yoonoh? What’s he like?”

“Yunho,” Seonghwa says immediately, so quickly that it catches Wooyoung off guard a little. “And he’s...quiet, I guess.” The microwave beeps, and Seonghwa removes a frankly huge plastic container of noodles that he stirs furiously with the set of chopsticks in his left hand.

“That’s a big ass container of noodles,” Wooyoung says, surprised.

Seonghwa looks at him like he’s daring him to say more. Wooyoung might be dumb sometimes, but he’s not an  _ idiot _ , so he doesn’t. “But quiet? Really? That’s all you’ve got for me?” he asks instead.

“Sorry I can’t give you more gossip,” Seonghwa answers, rolling his eyes and turning his gaze back down to his noodles. “He’s only been in my office for an hour. I don’t know if he’s competent or anything yet, and that’s all I care about.”

“You’re probably hoping he is incompetent so he’ll be fired,” Wooyoung snarks.

“Actually, no. I would hate to work for a company that hires incompetent people on a regular basis,” Seonghwa says, then shoves a startlingly large amount of noodles in his mouth. It’s a little weird, because Seonghwa generally refuses to eat anywhere but sitting either at his desk or in the conference room when required, but maybe plotting how to get rid of the new accountant has him acting a little weird today.

Wooyoung narrows his eyes. “But you still want him gone,” he says.

Seonghwa swallows his mouthful loudly. “I don’t need help doing my job,” he sighs.

Wooyoung sighs too, out of frustration. Clearly he’s not going to get anywhere with Seonghwa right now. “Just...please be nice to this one, okay?” he pleads, feeling the corners of his mouth turn down into a pout against his will. He hates how weird it gets around here when Seonghwa openly hates someone, like he did the guy who held Yunho’s position before he was ever hired.

(Granted, from some of the stuff Mingi has told him, Seonghwa probably was somewhat justified as the guy wasn’t great at his job. Also, Seonghwa never went so far out of line that Yeosang felt the need to write him up over breaking company protocols either, which says a lot—Yeosang is  _ quick  _ with those when he decides rules have been broken. But still.)

“I have no idea why everyone keeps telling me to be nice,” Seonghwa says, and takes another bite of his noodles, still standing in front of the microwave.

“God, why do I even try?” Wooyoung bemoans.

Seonghwa grins at him, all teeth, despite his mouth still being full. “I ask myself that question daily,” he says, giving Wooyoung a clear view of half-chewed noodles, and Wooyoung shudders violently.

“You’re disgusting,” he sniffs, and hightails it out of the room. If he doesn’t, he might vomit.

San’s hovering right next to Wooyoung’s cubicle when he gets back, because of course he is. “Well?” he demands, as impatient as ever.

“I got nothing, besides the fact that he apparently thinks he can outeat Jongho all of a sudden based on how big the container of noodles he brought for lunch is,” Wooyoung tells him, sitting down in his desk chair with a heavy thump. “Next time it’s on you, by the way,” he adds, and laughs when San makes an affronted noise.

Later, though, when Wooyoung ducks into the breakroom to refill his coffee, he notices the giant container Seonghwa had been eating out of sitting in the sink. It’s empty.

* * *

  
  


“You really weren’t kidding,” Yunho says that night, sounding a little awed. “Your co-workers are really absolutely convinced that you’re going to hate me just for existing, huh.”

“Our co-workers now,” Seonghwa corrects him gently, shifting a little closer into the taller man’s side. “But yeah.”

Yunho beams, tightening his grip on Seonghwa’s shoulders. “I can’t figure out if they’re scared of you or in love with you. Maybe both, I guess.”

Seonghwa scoffs. “No one is either of those things.”

“Except for me,” Yunho says, still beaming. “I’m pretty clearly in love with you, Hwa.”

“I know,” Seonghwa says, shifting guiltily on the couch. “Hey, listen. I know I talked some shit about having a reputation to uphold, and how Hongjoong can never, ever find out he indirectly played a part in us meeting, but if at any point you don’t want to pretend we don’t know each other anymore one word will be enough for me to drop the act entirely, okay?”

Yunho kisses Seonghwa on the tip of the nose, something he’s gotten into the habit of doing lately. Probably because he likes seeing Seonghwa scrunch his nose in reflex because of how it tickles, but it’s still nice. “I’ve already told you, I’m fine with it. You get to continue being the big bad wolf who judges the hell out of everyone, I get to prove my worth without everyone wondering if you’re actually doing all of my work for me, and I get to get to know my new coworkers on my own without them either being nice to me or being awful to me because you’re my boyfriend.”

Seonghwa relaxes into Yunho’s arms. “Well, if you’re sure,” he says.

‘I am,” Yunho says confidently. “It’s kinda fun, too,” he adds, and Seonghwa can’t help but agree. 

* * *

San knocks on the door of Seonghwa and Yunho’s office hesitantly. The door’s open, but only barely so—he wouldn’t be able to fit his head through the gap—and there’s no telling what he mind find in there. Maybe Seonghwa has finally snapped and murdered someone. Or maybe  _ Yunho  _ has snapped and murdered someone—granted, as far as San can tell, the other man’s basically a golden retriever in a human’s body, but you never really know. It’s the nice ones you have to watch out for and all that.

“Come in!” Yunho calls cheerfully. San pushes the door open carefully and looks over at Seonghwa immediately. He’s sitting up straight in his chair, rigidly so, and his jaw is visibly clenched. San mentally sighs.

“Is something wrong?” he asks slowly. Even if he couldn’t see Seonghwa right now, he’d know something was up—the tension in the office is literally palpable, and San swears he can taste it.

“Nothing is wrong, San. Why did you come to bother us?” Seonghwa asks, clipped.

San steps all the way into the office so he can see Yunho’s desk area clearly. Yunho smiles brightly when he sees him, his eyes crinkling up in delight. “San,” he says warmly.

“Hey,” San says, unable to keep from smiling back. “Woo and I are going out for lunch and we decided to see if you wanted to come along? I figure you can probably use a break from being around that one,” he adds, jerking his thumb in Seonghwa’s direction. “I can literally  _ feel  _ the tension in the room.”

“San,” Seonghwa says softly. San feels goosebumps rising on the back of his hand—Seonghwa’s quiet voice is his most dangerous one, and he’s just been vividly reminded of that fact.

“I’m sure he’s a wonderful office mate and an even better partner for your accountant things,” San says quickly, as diplomatically as he can manage. Seonghwa stays silent, so he must have decided to let San live for the moment.

Yunho, inexplicably, giggles. “I’ve had worse partners,” he says, smiling like he knows something San doesn’t. “I’ll definitely go to lunch with you and Wooyoung, though. Now?” he asks, shoving away from his desk.

“Yeah, now, if you can,” San replies, glancing at Seonghwa again. He half expects him to tell Yunho he can’t leave since it’s not technically lunch time yet, but it doesn’t happen. He does see Seonghwa roll his eyes, but he’s pretty sure Seonghwa rolls his eyes just on reflex without realizing it sometimes, so it’s probably— _ probably _ —not directed at he or Yunho.

San can literally feel Seonghwa’s eyes staring at his back as he follows Yunho out of his office, and shivers a little. Yeah, he thinks Seonghwa’s great, but the dude is also intimidating as fuck. It’s why he tries so hard to stay on his good side, and hates that Yunho’s on his bad side just for existing.

With that on his mind, San pats Yunho’s arm sympathetically. “You know,” he starts, “if Seonghwa’s too much of an asshole for you to deal with day in and day out, I bet HR could find somewhere else for you to work. Like a different office, probably. Ooh, or you can come hang out with us in the sales department! Yeosang’s pretty easily bribable, it wouldn’t be hard,” he says, gesturing widely with his hands. 

“Aww,” Yunho says, sounding genuinely touched. “It’s really nice that you care so much so fast? My old job wasn’t like that at all,” he admits. “I’d been there for nine months when I left for this job, and even then pretty much no one talked to me unless it was to boss me around. So after that, being around Seonghwa all the time is honestly great in comparison.”

San can’t keep the shock he feels off his face, he just knows it. “Are you sure?” he asks dumbly.

“Yeah.”

“Well, if that changes, let me know. I know what brand of chocolate Yeosang likes best, and I’m not afraid to use it,” San declares, patting Yunho on the arm again. 

“Noted,” Yunho says, laughing a little. “Come on, I’m hungry and Wooyoung’s probably waiting for us.”

San winces. Wooyoung’s definitely waiting for them, and he gets bitchy when he’s hungry. “Fuck, let’s go,” he demands, grabbing Yunho’s arm and dragging him along the hallway. 

It isn’t until much later that afternoon that San realizes that Yunho had deliberately changed the topic to avoid talking about Seonghwa any longer.

* * *

"What about these?" Yunho asks.

Seonghwa stands up on his tip toes so he can peek over Yunho's shoulder to look at the basket of strawberries he's holding. He doesn't have to, of course, he could easily move to Yunho's side, but it's kind of chilly out this morning and even the sweater he'd stolen from Yunho's drawer isn't quite keeping him warm enough.

"Mmm, looks good," Seonghwa answers, digging his chin into the juncture of Yunho's shoulder where it meets his neck. The other man predictably yelps and squirms away, but he's smiling so Seonghwa knows he's not angry or anything like that. "Get two of them. We can make strawberry shortcake for dessert tonight, if you'd like."

"Sounds good to me," Yunho replies absently, his attentions already focused on finding a second basket of acceptable berries. Seonghwa plucks the first basket from his hand to ensure that he doesn't set it down and leave it to be snatched up by some other early morning market patron -- that had happened last fall, near the end of the season, and the way that Yunho's face had fallen once he had realized what had happened isn't something that Seonghwa wants to see again if he can help it. "Can we get some blueberries too?"

"Of course," Seonghwa assures him. He hates the things, but Yunho eats them like they're candy and Seonghwa's already learned to deal with his mouth tasting like the things now and then. He takes the second basket of strawberries from Yunho once he finds another one he's satisfied with, and smiles when Yunho takes advantage of suddenly having two free hands to stick one of his hands in the back pocket of Seonghwa's jeans as they make their way over to the blueberry stall.

"Seonghwa? Is that you?" an all too familiar voice asks. "Wait, holy shit, is that-- _ Yunho _ ?"

Seonghwa whirls around, unfortunately dislodging Yunho's hand in the process, to glare at Mingi. He's always known Mingi had a big mouth, but it's still almost impressive how wide his jaw is hanging open with unconcealed shock. "What are you doing here?" he demands.

"As if I'd miss out on a chance to get fresh fruit for my morning smoothies," Mingi sniffs haughtily, having managed to pick his jaw up off the ground. "But you!" he shouts, jabbing a finger in Seonghwa's direction. "We've been waiting for you to snap and murder the new guy for two weeks now, but you guys are -- what?" he asks, clearly flabbergasted.

Yunho gives Seonghwa a questioning look. When Seonghwa nods, he says, "We're here at the market to get fresh fruit, just like you," smooth as can be, and Seonghwa is so  _ proud _ . And maybe a tiny bit turned on by watching Yunho blandly bullshit like this directly to someone's face, but that's neither here nor there. "Nice morning, isn't it?"

Mingi stares at them like they've come from another dimension or something. "Seonghwa is wearing the same sweater you were wearing on Thursday, Yunho," he points out.

Seonghwa glances down at himself and realizes that Mingi's right, which explains why it smells like Yunho's cologne instead of the fabric softener he uses. Not that he's complaining--he would have done it intentionally, so. (Yunho probably thinks he did, honestly.)

"You guys have known each other for two weeks and you're already out here being domestic as fuck at the farmer's market while wearing each other's clothes?" Mingi asks, voice raising higher and higher with each word.

"Yunho isn't wearing any of my clothes, they're too small for him," Seonghwa answers, maybe a little dreamily -- he's not small by any means himself, but Yunho makes him feel that way sometimes, and he  _ loves  _ it. "Oh, and no."

Mingi's eyes narrow. "I'm not an idiot, Seonghwa. Don't lie to my face."

"We've known each other for longer than two weeks," Seonghwa tells him, and watches smugly as Mingi's face flushes red.

"No," he says.

"Oh, yeah. Cat's out of the bag now though, I suppose," Seonghwa sighs.

Yunho stifles a giggle behind his hand. "Guess so," he agrees, wrapping an arm loosely around Seonghwa's waist. Mingi makes an aborted noise of shock at the action, and Seonghwa smirks.

"Hey, Mingi?" Seonghwa asks. "How does it feel to know that no one is going to believe you about this?"

Mingi goes pale. "Oh my fucking god. No," he whines.

"Yes," Seonghwa says, grinning now. He's never met a person who talks as much shit as Mingi does, ever. It's honestly impossible to know when he's telling the truth without someone to corroborate his story -- and the only people who could possibly corroborate this are Seonghwa himself or Yunho, and he knows damn well that neither of them are going to do so.

Mingi shoots Yunho a pleading look, who shakes his head slowly. Mingi scowls. "I don't know why everyone at work thinks you're just a sweet little puppy," he says grumpily. "Because you're not."

Yunho laughs. "I can be, right, babe?" he asks Seonghwa.

"Gross," Mingi groans. "I don't need to know about your kinks, jesus christ."

"What?" Yunho sputters, turning red. "I -- no, Mingi, what the fuck?"

As cute as it is to see Yunho squirm, Seonghwa thinks it's time this conversation ends. They still need to pick out Yunho's blueberries and go to the grocery store this morning, after all. "We'll see you at work Monday, Mingi," he says cheerfully, shifting the two baskets of strawberries to one hand so he can give the taller man a short wave. "Have a good weekend!"

"Aren't you concerned he's going to take a picture of us or something for proof?" Yunho whispers once they've left Mingi, still gaping at them, behind.

"Nah," Seonghwa says confidently. "He won't think about it until someone asks him for proof on Monday. Bet."

* * *

Jongho’s sitting on Mingi’s desk again, probably just to get on his nerves. Today, however, Mingi doesn’t give a single fuck. Today, Mingi has the scoop of the century, and he’s not going to get irritated over something as petty as Jongho sitting on his desk when he knows better.

However, he  _ is  _ going to get irritated if everyone continues to give him disbelieving stares. Especially since Seonghwa had predicted this exact thing happening.

“I’m just saying, I’d be a lot more likely to believe you if you had a picture or something,” Hongjoong explains patiently, his hands on his hips. 

“I already told you that I was too stunned by what I was seeing to think of taking one!” Mingi whines petulantly. “Come on, what have I ever done to make you not trust me?” 

The four incredulous looks Mingi gets are enough to have him shrinking back in his chair. “You know what you did,” Jongho tells him.

“Yeah, never mind,” Mingi mumbles. He does, in fact, know what he did. “But seriously, both of them will be here soon. Just ask Yunho. I bet he’ll crack.”

The door to the office swings open, almost as if Mingi’s words summoned one or both of them. It turns out to be Seonghwa, who crosses the lobby with his normal brisk pace before slowing to a complete stop right next to San.

San, predictably, ignores Mingi’s solid advice about how  _ Yunho  _ is the one they need to question about this. “Mingi says you and Yunho are dating and he saw you at the farmer’s market on Saturday,” he blurts out.

Seonghwa arches an eyebrow. “Since when do we believe anything Mingi says that isn’t backed up by at least two other people?”

Mingi watches as San visibly falters. “I know,” he says, scuffing the ground with the toe of his shoe. “But he gave us so many details that it would be hard to fake, you know?”

“Like he said you had two baskets of strawberries in your hand,” Wooyoung pipes in. “And that Yunho kept grabbing your ass.”

“Do I look like someone who would let their ass be grabbed in public?” Seonghwa says archly.

Mingi groans. “No, but apparently you  _ are _ ,” he says. “I know what I saw, Seonghwa, knock it off.”

“Hongjoong is still trying to set me up with every single person he knows. Do you not think I’d tell him if I had a boyfriend in order to get him to cut it out already?”

“He’s got a point there,” Hongjoong points out, shrugging. “Seriously, Mingi, why didn’t you just take a picture if you really saw them out on a date like that?”

“I just don’t believe Seonghwa would be suddenly all domestic with a guy he’s known for like two weeks,” Jongho adds. 

“He literally told me they’ve known each other for longer than that,” Mingi protests. 

Seonghwa sighs. “Are we done here yet?” he asks, pointedly glancing down at his watch.

“Yes, you are,” a new voice cuts in, causing everyone to jump. Mingi has to crane his neck to see around Jongho, but the irritated expression on Yeosang’s face makes him wish he hadn’t. Yeah, Seonghwa can be scary sometimes, but no one’s scarier than Yeosang when he’s mad at you. 

No one.

“Get to work,” Yeosang adds, crossly, and everyone scatters. Wooyoung gives him an apologetic look (if Mingi had to guess, Wooyoung might be the person closest to believing him) and Seonghwa— 

Seonghwa fucking  _ winks  _ at him.

Mingi seethes.

Yunho strolls in about fifteen minutes later, looking perfectly content with the world. “Good morning, Mingi,” he says breezily. “Wonderful day, right?”

“No,” Mingi glares. He has no doubt Yunho’s already been filled in about what went down a little while ago courtesy of Seonghwa. Yunho continues to gaze at him with that open, friendly face of his though, and Mingi’s resolve to be mad at him crumbles. “You guys are evil.”

Yunho comes closer and leans down, placing his hands on Mingi’s desk so he can lean in and talk to him quietly. “We have our reasons, and it’s nothing malicious. I promise. Okay?”

“I’m not going to shut up about this,” Mingi warns him. “Someone will believe me eventually. Like, did you know Seonghwa never actually denied it? He just deflected everything. That’s pretty obvious if you take the time to think about it, Yunho.”

“I did know, and I’m not asking you to be quiet about it,” Yunho smiles. “I’m just letting you know that we aren’t planning on keeping this a secret forever, and that it’s not some massive conspiracy theory or anything like that either.”

“I know,” Mingi admits. Because he does. Seonghwa, for all of his prickly edges, is a genuinely good person. He doesn’t know Yunho well yet, but Mingi thinks it’s safe to say that if  _ Seonghwa  _ chose Yunho, then he must be too. “You should probably go, though. Seonghwa’s probably getting antsy waiting for you.”

Yunho smiles again, this time something different. Mingi bets that’s his Seonghwa smile, and can’t decide if he thinks it’s cute or if he wants to gag. For now, at least, he decides to refrain from passing judgment (only if because the phone starts ringing, and Mingi does have a job to do that isn’t gossip all day).

Yeosang materializes in front of Mingi’s desk just before lunch. “Here,” he says simply, handing Mingi a small plate with a slice of what seems to be strawberry shortcake on it. “I know you had a frustrating morning, and I had extra,” he explains, before Mingi can ask.

Mingi eyes Yeosang critically. “You didn’t make this,” he says. Yeosang’s cooking skills are legendary around the office, and not in a good way.

“I did not,” Yeosang confirms. “Enjoy your cake, Mingi. I bet you will.”

Yeosang’s acting kinda shady, Mingi thinks as he stabs at the slice of cake with the little fork Yeosang had thoughtfully placed on the plate for him, but that’s nothing new. He’s pretty sure that acting shady sometimes is literally in Yeosang’s job description, honestly.

Yeosang was right about one thing, though. Mingi does enjoy the hell out of the cake.


	2. conclusion

“Hello, snake,” Mingi says, an obviously fake smile plastered on his face.

Seonghwa smiles patiently at him. “Hello, Mingi. Mind moving so I can get my lunch out of the fridge?”

Mingi, unsurprisingly, slaps one of his giant hands on the edge of the refrigerator, effectively preventing Seonghwa from being able to open it unless he were to literally shove Mingi out of the way. Unfortunately for Seonghwa, Yeosang might turn a blind eye to a lot of things, but workplace violence isn’t one of them. Mingi knows it, too.

“Your lunch? Or yours and Yunho’s lunch?” Mingi asks.

Seonghwa glances behind his shoulder. He and Mingi are currently the only ones in the breakroom, so—“Well, I only brought one container, but it’s for both of us,” he admits freely. “I probably brought way too much though, would you like some?”

Like five different emotions play across Mingi’s face in ten seconds, and Seonghwa has to stifle a laugh. “Is this a bribe?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“I don’t know. Is it?” Seonghwa retorts.

Mingi visibly hesitates. “What did you bring?”

“Fried chicken.”

“And you made it?”

“Of course I did,” Seonghwa scoffs. “Who do you think I am? Yeosang? Wooyoung?”

Mingi gives him finger guns like the disaster of a human being he is. “You got me there,” he says, taking his hand off the fridge and moving aside. “I will accept your fried chicken bribe—whoa, what the fuck, did you make enough to feed a small army?” he demands after he watches Seonghwa pull what is, admittedly, a large container of chicken out of the fridge.

“I brought some for Yeosang as well,” Seongwha says, setting the container down on the counter so he can pull some plates out of the cupboard. “Want yours cold, or should I heat it up for you?”

“What does Yeosang know?” Mingi demands. 

Seonghwa gives Mingi what he can only hope is a blank look. “Excuse me?”

“Why are you making food for Yeosang, too?” Mingi questions.

“Because I’m a nice person, Mingi,” Seonghwa tells him, as innocent as he can manage. “As for what Yeosang knows, I don’t know. Sometimes I think Yeosang knows everything, and sometimes I think Yeosang knows absolutely nothing at all. He’s good at that, you know?”

Mingi makes an exasperated noise. “You’re not good at playing dumb, Seonghwa,” he says, “and I’m going to expose you. Just wait.”

“You’re welcome to try, like I’ve already told you,” Seonghwa smirks. “Now, again, cold or hot?”

* * *

Seonghwa’s office technically has a lock, but he’s never, ever used it. Not even now that it’s not only his office—Hongjoong bets that Yunho doesn’t even  _ know  _ that it locks. It’s kind of dumb, considering all the important confidential files that live in here, but right now Seonghwa not bothering to lock his office up ever benefits Hongjoong because it means he can slip inside to try and escape the chaos that is the sales department currently. Even though he knows his respite from the chaos will be short lived, any moment of peace Hongjoong can grasp right now will be a cherished one.

Ten blessed moments of silence later, the office door cracks open. Hongjoong doesn’t move, even though he’s sitting in Seonghwa’s desk chair right now.

“This isn’t your office,” Seonghwa says dryly.

Hongjoong startles. “No, it’s not,” he agrees, leaning back in his stolen chair. “But San and Wooyoung are driving me fucking crazy. I can’t be around them right now.”

Seonghwa snorts. “What are they doing now?”

“You don’t want to know,” Hongjoong tells him earnestly, shuddering. Because no, Seonghwa doesn’t want to know. Hongjoong  _ himself  _ doesn’t want to know, even, but unfortunately for him his cubicle just happens to be situated right in between theirs and neither of them know what an inside voice is. At least it looks like the sexual tension that’s been crackling between the two of them for the two years they’ve worked here seems like it’s about to come to a head, but god, Hongjoong wants to be far, far away from the blast radius when it happens.

So: he’s here. In Seonghwa and Yunho’s office, trying to avoid going back to his own workspace for as long as humanly possible. Knowing Seonghwa, he’s got fifteen minutes tops, but that’s fifteen minutes he doesn’t have to deal with any bullshit. Hongjoong will take it.

“No, seriously. Enlighten me, I’m curious,” Seongwha says, moving Yunho’s desk chair so it’s facing Seonghwa’s own desk before sitting down on it, propping his feet up on his desk like a heathen.

“Won’t Yunho need that in like, two minutes?” Hongjoong asks, even as he makes zero effort to get up out of Seonghwa’s chair.

“He’s sick. He’s not coming in today.”

Hongjoong’s jaw drops. It’s not even time for them to clock in yet. There’s no way Seonghwa should know that Yunho isn’t coming in today yet—unless…

“Is Mingi right about you two?” he demands. “Seriously?”

He thinks Seonghwa looks panicked for a brief second, but it’s gone so fast that Hongjoong can’t be sure. “We exchanged numbers, and he texted me an hour ago to let me know that he wouldn’t be coming in today so I could finish up the invoice for Wonderland Corp.”

Hongjoong almost falls out of his (well, Seonghwa’s) chair. “Seonghwa. That’s like...one of our biggest clients. Wooyoung’s literally still using bagging them over a fucking year ago as bragging rights against San. You gave Yunho that file like three weeks into him working here?”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa shrugs. “He’s proven himself to be competent, and him having that account means I can handle like five others in the time it would normally take me to deal with that single one.”

“When one of the HR dudes suggested you hand an account that isn’t nearly as important as the Wonderland account to the last guy, you nearly ripped their head off.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “Don’t exaggerate. I just expressed my concerns. Loudly.”

“Yeosang had to give you a verbal warning for how you reacted, and I’m pretty sure the only reason you didn’t get an actual written infraction for that one is because Yeosang likes you,” Hongjoong points out. “What was it, verbal abuse of human resources personnel?”

“Shut up,” Seonghwa scowls. “Seriously, Joong, Yunho is good at what he does. His last company didn’t let him show what he’s capable of, but he can seriously handle this account. He’s been communicating with the Wonderland people for a week now and they already like him more than they ever liked me.”

“That’s not hard,” Hongjoong teases, but it’s only partially true. Yeah, Seonghwa can be prickly at times, but their clients generally love him and his no-nonsense approach. “You seem...very fond of him already.”

“He’s a good kid,” Seonghwa shrugs, as if Yunho isn’t older than almost everyone Seonghwa bothers to talk to at work (San had been bitterly disappointed to learn that Yunho was, in fact, several months older than him). “But enough about that. What’s going on with San and Wooyoung?”

“I told you, you don’t wanna know,” Hongjoong whines.

“If you tell me, I won’t tell anyone but Yeosang if you decide you want to hide out in here today to avoid them,” Seonghwa bargains.

That’s a deal that Hongjoong would be a fool not to take. “They made a bet to see who can get more sales this month,” he starts.

“They literally do that daily,” Seonghwa interrupts.

“Yes, I  _ know _ ,” Hongjoong sighs, “but this time they’ve decided that the loser has to take the winner out on a date. 

Seonghwa gives him a horrified look. “They’re going to be fucking in the supply room before the month is up, aren’t they,” he says, resigned.

“I told you you didn’t want to know,” Hongjoong sings. “Hey, can I use Yunho’s work laptop, do you think? Or do I need to find a way to get mine in here without the terrible twosome spotting me?”

“Definitely bring yours in here. Don’t mess with Yunho’s stuff,” Seonghwa says quickly.

Too quickly.

“You didn’t answer my question about Mingi earlier,” Hongjoong says shrewdly. Because now that Hongjoong really thinks about it, it’s been almost two weeks since Mingi supposedly ran into Seonghwa and Yunho at the farmer’s market and he’s still going on about it daily to everyone who will listen, enough so that Hongjoong’s pretty sure Wooyoung’s convinced he’s telling the truth.

The thing is, though, if Mingi was just bullshitting the way he usually does, he would have dropped it after a day or two. Three, tops. But the fact that he’s still going on about it, and Seonghwa is definitely acting weird where Yunho is concerned? Hongjoong’s no longer sure that Mingi’s just making shit up again.

Seonghwa scowls again, and Hongjoong knows he’s on thin ice. If he’s not careful, Seonghwa is going to kick him out of his office and leave him to deal with San and Wooyoung all day. Before he can backtrack his previous statement, though, Seonghwa exhales heavily and shakes his head. 

“Like I pointed out last week, since when do we believe anything Mingi says without having multiple people corroborate his story?”

Seonghwa wasn’t wrong then, and he isn’t wrong now. But Hongjoong can’t help but think that maybe what Seonghwa isn’t saying right now is more important than what Seongwha _is _saying.

* * *

Yunho’s face is still flushed with fever when Seonghwa arrives home from work, but his eyes are bright and aware, which means he’s at least feeling better now than he was when Seonghwa was forced to leave him alone this morning.

“Hey,” Yunho says, struggling to pull himself into a sitting position on Seonghwa’s couch. “You’re home late.”

Seonghwa sets the paper bag in his arms down on his coffee table, then moves over to Yunho and presses a hand against his forehead. “Stopped to get stuff for soup,” he murmurs. “Lay back down, baby, you don’t need to get up unless you want to.”

Yunho grabs onto Seonghwa’s arm and uses it to haul himself upright. “I want to, you’re going to be in the kitchen and I missed you,” he whines. “Did you miss me too? Were you lonely without me in the office today?”

“I missed you like I would a missing limb, but I wasn’t lonely today,” Seonghwa chuckles, standing up and dragging Yunho to his feet along with him. 

“How weren’t you lonely?” Yunho pouts, and it’s  _ adorable _ . Seonghwa’s tempted to kiss the pout right off his lips, even knowing that he absolutely should  _ not  _ do that right now. 

Seonghwa helps Yunho to the kitchen and makes sure he’s settled at the table before he answers. “Hongjoong hid out in our office today to avoid Wooyoung and San.”

“Oh?” Yunho asks interestedly. “What are they doing now?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Seonghwa tells him, even though he knows that Yunho is sure to find out as soon as he’s able to go back to work. “But also, I think Hongjoong is on to us.”

“On to you,” Yunho giggles. “He doesn’t know me yet.”

Seonghwa gives him an indulgent smile. “When was the last time you took some medicine?”

“Like half an hour ago,” Yunho informs him, which explains why he’s feeling so good right now despite the fever that’s still clearly raging. 

“Good,” Seonghwa says, pulling a cutting board out of the cabinet. “And yes, you’re right that you don’t really know Hongjoong yet, but we’re both in this together. Therefore, he’s on to us instead of just me.”

“So...do you want to tell him? Them?” Yunho asks.

Seonghwa hums contemplatively. “And admit Mingi was right?”

Yunho giggles  _ again _ , and it’s doing crazy things to Seonghwa’s heart. “You’ve never actually denied anything he’s said about us,” he points out, much more lucid than Seonghwa was expecting from him tonight. Maybe the giggles are a by-product of the medicine actually working and Yunho’s fever dropping, who knows?

“Maybe I want to delay the inevitable,” Seonghwa answers, and  _ he’s  _ pouting now, but Yunho doesn’t call him out on it. “I think the charade is about up, anyway.”

* * *

The life of an IT person means that Jongho is either very busy or very  _ not  _ busy, depending on the day.

Today is a busy day.

It’s good, because it means that Jongho won’t be left to basically stare at the wall of his office for hours on end again, but it’s also bad because Jongho only got three hours of sleep last night due to staying up too late playing Overwatch. At least someone seems to have told Yunho, an actual Angel On Earth, about his predicament, because when Yunho enters his office he’s got his laptop in one arm and a Red Bull in the other.

Jongho makes grabby hands for the Red Bull immediately. “Gimme,” he moans. Yunho does, laughing a little when Jongho pops it open and drains half of it in one go. “How did you know?” he asks, smacking his lips together happily.

“Um, Mingi talks a lot, you know?” Yunho asks.

“Yeah, I know,” Jongho says, rolling his eyes. “I meant more like, how did you know not to bring me coffee?”

“Oh! You just don’t seem like the coffee type,” Yunho replies. “Better?”

“Better,” Jongho confirms. “Gimme your laptop, let’s see what’s happening here.”

The issue with Yunho’s laptop turns out to be a botched software update, which is an easy enough fix. Definitely much better than the virus-riddled laptop someone in administration had brought him earlier that day—now  _ that  _ had been a nightmare to deal with. With that horror show on his mind, Jongho also double checks Yunho’s anti-virus software; it’s up to date, which is more than he could say for probably 90% of the computers in this building.

“Have you ever accessed your work email from home?” Jongho asks once the scan he’d started on Yunho’s laptop just as a precaution finishes up.

“Yeah, sometimes,” Yunho replies.

Jongho nods. “Alright, I’m gonna set up two-factor authentication for you. I should have done it ages ago, like the day I got your email set up. Oversight on my part, but I’m fixing it now.”

“Sure,” Yunho says. “What’s that?”

“It’s a security thing,” Jongho explains patiently. This isn’t the first or even the twentieth time he’s had to explain this, after all. “Whenever you try to log onto your email on any other network than the one in this building, you’ll have to verify it’s you on an app. Phone, please,” he adds, holding out his hand.

Yunho blanches. “Why?” he asks, his voice sounding oddly high pitched.

“So I can install the app on your phone. An administrator of the security system has to do it, and I’m literally the only one,” Jongho says, a little less patiently. 

“Can’t I install it myself?”

Jongho blinks up at him. “I literally just explained why that isn’t possible,” he says, trying not to get irritated. After all, Yunho  _ did  _ bring him a Red Bull. And he’s still kinda new around here. But Jongho’s patience is wearing thin.

Yunho takes a deep breath, like he’s steeling himself for something. “Fine,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocks it and hands it to Jongho, and Jongho thinks he’s being way overdramatic about this entire thing—it’s not like he’s going to snoop through Yunho’s texts or recently visited websites, you know?

Yunho’s odd behavior clicks when Jongho registers his home screen background. It’s Seonghwa, sound asleep on a couch with his arms around a throw pillow, drowning in a hoodie that’s clearly multiple sizes too large for him. 

“Jongho,” Yunho says warily, “I can explain?”

Jongho does the only thing he  _ can  _ do at a time like this.

He shrieks.

* * *

In an office as chaotic as this one can be sometimes, you wouldn’t think someone screaming would send everyone within earshot running. Maybe it wouldn’t have, if it had been someone like San screaming, Yunho thinks.

But Jongho shrieking seemingly unprompted? Yunho barely has time to cover his ears with his hands (Jongho is really,  _ really  _ loud) before multiple people come tumbling into the room. Quite literally.

“Where’s the fire?” Hongjoong demands from his spot on the ground. Because he ended up on the ground somehow, apparently.

“Are you okay?” San asks, climbing over Hongjoong so he can grab Jongho’s face in his hands.

Jongho, apparently still speechless, shoves Yunho’s phone in San’s face. Yunho sighs and covers his ears with his hands again, knowing damn well that San’s about to start screaming too.

“Can I have my phone back, please?” Yunho shouts. Jongho apparently hears him even over San, because he shakes his head and clutches Yunho’s phone to his chest.

“No! I still have to install the app,” he insists.

That gets San to stop screaming. “Wait,” he says. “Wait, wait, wait, you’re busted because Jongho takes his job too seriously?”

“What?” Wooyoung screeches.

Yunho suddenly wishes he had taken Seonghwa’s advice and called in sick one more day. He’d figured it would be fine since it was Friday, and he didn’t want to blow through his sick days, but—yeah, he’s really regretting even getting out of bed this morning right now.

“Can we please stop yelling?” he moans, a little pathetically. “It’s making my head hurt.”

San yelps and lets go of Jongho, only to reach up on his toes to cradle Yunho’s head the same way he had been cradling Jongho. “I’m sorry, forgive me,” he pleads. “Are you okay? Do you need painkillers? I have some in my desk.”

“What is happening?” Hongjoong asks. He’s gotten back on his feet, Yunho notices, so he’s got that going for himself right now at least.

“Yes, I would like to know the same thing,” Seonghwa chimes in from the doorway. Mingi peeks in over his shoulder, which means that everyone’s here. Yunho closes his eyes and presses his head into San’s hands, one of which begins to comb through his hair reassuringly.

“I saw Yunho’s lock screen picture,” Jongho says, presumably to Seonghwa. “And then everyone started yelling and I think we gave him a headache, which we feel bad about.”

“So bad,” San agrees, much quieter than he normally speaks. “It’s a cute fucking picture, though. Yunho, did you take it?”

Yunho opens his eyes and looks over towards the doorway. Seonghwa’s sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose, but Yunho can tell that he’s a little amused by the whole thing. “Obviously, yeah,” he answers, blushing when San coos at him.

“What picture?” Hongjoong asks, sounding irritated now. 

“A picture of me asleep on the couch, unless he’s changed it in the last eight hours,” Seonghwa answers.

Mingi gasps so loudly that Yunho thinks it had to have physically hurt him to do so. “SEE?” he screams.

Yunho winces, and San pulls him down so that his head can rest against the shorter man’s shoulder. “Mingi,” he hisses.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mingi says immediately. “But seriously, see?”

Someone rubs a hand across Yunho’s back, and he doesn’t have to look to know it’s Seonghwa. “I told you no one would believe you, Mingi,” Seonghwa says, smug.

“Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait,” Wooyoung says. “You guys are together? Already? You’ve known each other for like a month and a half?”

“More like seven and a half months, and we went on a date the day we met,” Yunho tells him, not bothering to lift his head off San’s shoulder. He’s warm and comforting, and Yunho suspects that moving suddenly might make his head pound even more.

“Wait,” Hongjoong says shrewdly. “Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa coughs loudly. “Okay, anyway, yes. Yunho and I are dating. Sorry we didn’t tell you before, but it was amusing to me. I’m taking him back to our office now,” he says, tugging Yunho out of San’s hold as gently as he can.

“Can you admit that I was right?” Mingi asks hopefully.

“Never,” Seonghwa says, and Mingi’s groan rings in Yunho’s ears as Seonghwa ushers him out of Jongho’s office and back to their own.

Yunho doesn’t even remember that Jongho still has his phone until almost an hour later, when Jongho returns it to him sheepishly.

“I installed the app I was talking about, and uh. I’m sorry for blowing your cover,” he says earnestly.

Yunho waves him off. “It’s fine, it was going to happen.”

Jongho looks warily at Seonghwa, typing away at a report at his own desk, and leans in so that he’s invading Yunho’s personal space. “Be good to him, yeah? He’s kind of a prickly bitch but he’s the best person you’ll ever meet.”

Yunho smiles. “Oh, trust me,” he assures Jongho, “I am. And I know.”

* * *

_ Six weeks earlier… _

“Seonghwa,” Yeosang says exasperatedly, not looking up from his computer, “if you’re just going to pace up and down the hallway all day, go do it somewhere else instead of in front of my office. You’re distracting me.”

Seonghwa enters his office a solid two minutes later, looking a little nervous with his hands behind his back. “Sorry,” he says.

Yeosang shrugs, hitting send on the email he’d been composing. “It’s fine. What’s up? Here for a refresher on good office etiquette before the new accountant starts next week?” he teases.

Seonghwa clears his throat. “No,” he says, sounding a little strangled. He moves forward and slams a piece of paper onto Yeosang’s desk. “This is for you.”

“Seonghwa, if this is a letter of resignation, I swear to god I will kill you,” Yeosang warns him, reaching out to pick it up.

“No, it’s not that. Um. It’s a relationship declaration form,” Seonghwa admits, visibly shifting from foot to foot.

“For San and Wooyoung? They got their shit together finally? Why are you giving this to me, though?” Yeosang asks.

Seonghwa sighs. “No, not for them, you know they’re never going to get there without help. No, this is for me. And, um. The new accountant we just hired,” he says. Mumbles, really, so that Yeosang can barely hear him.

Yeosang skims the form in front of him incredulously. Sure enough, it’s got both Seonghwa’s info and the info of the new accountant he’d put into the system just yesterday. “Huh. Well, congratulations,” he says. “Did you have any part in getting him hired?”

“I told him about the opening, and he noted that on his initial application, but that’s it,” Seonghwa says, and Yeosang notes that he sounds proud. “It was all Yunho.”

“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to keep this on the down low, though?” Yeosang asks, sighing internally.

“Everyone knows I’m going to hate whoever they hire to fill this position, and you know how I hate to disappoint people,” Seonghwa tells him, fake sweet, and Yeosang rolls his eyes. “I also know that anything I turn in to HR is confidential unless I make it not so, so I suppose this is your secret to keep now too, Yeosangie.”

Yeosang rolls his eyes again, and picks up the relationship declaration form so he can scan it into the system. “You owe me.”

“That’s fine,” Seonghwa says, smiling. “I know how to stay on your good side.”

Yeosang manages not to bang his head against his desk after Seonghwa leaves, but it’s a close call. At least Seonghwa deciding to drag him in the middle of all this means he’s going to get a lot of free food soon, but is it going to be worth it? Probably not.

(Actually—it might be, if it means Seonghwa’s happy. But still.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/zero__miles) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/zero__miles)

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/zero__miles) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/zero__miles)


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